


Leather & Metal

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is falling apart and relies on Dean to put him back together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather & Metal

Sam Winchester was held together with pins and glue, temporary fixes to permanent troubles. _Low tech solutions for high tech problems._

Sam Winchester sometimes needed help holding everything together. Leather and metal where much sturdier than any craft he could construct to hold himself in one piece _. Have you ever wanted to cry but no tears come out? So you just sit their and stare blankly as your heart shatters into pieces._

Dean Winchester held a record for self blame and pity. His responsibilities crushed him into self pity filled rubble and Sam Winchester was his largest responsibility. And his biggest failure. _And in his head grew, a list of everything he'd Done Wrong, names he'd been Called, mistakes he's Made. Slowly these were the things he became._

Dean Winchester loved his younger brother and if leather and metal held him together better than Dean ever could, then so be it. _Then, my dear, why are you crying?_

The cuffs that bound Sam to the bed where cold, metal that dug into his wrists, he welcomed the familiar sensations. His hands griped the cheap motel headboard in front of him, he was on his knees, bare ass on display. Sam waited impatiently, squirming as though he had never been in this position before, even though he had been many times before. Now Sam had screwed up again and his pins where shaking, glue melting away, he had screwed up again. _I'm falling apart._

Dean leaned against the wall, staring and waiting. Running his thumb absentmindedly over the leather crop he had used so many times before. He was admiring his younger brothers physicality, the supple curve of his backside, resting in the air, waiting for Dean's steady crop....but now was not a time for admiration. Dean needed to be punished. _Every thought is a battle, every breathe is a war, and I don't think I'm winning anymore._

Dean had messed up again, like so many times before. His guilt chiseled away at his mind. For Dean, seeing his brother so broken was a punishment that tore into his mind worse than any heavy handed self incrimination could. _I guess that's what I do, I let down the people I love._

Dean stepped forward and watched as Sam visible stilled.

"I'm assuming thirty hits today?" Dean gave Sam the opportunity to walk away from this with no limp but Dean had no such luck.

Sam shook his head and looked back at Dean,

"I screwed up Dean. Nearly got us both killed."

Dean nodded, his face the mask he had perfected when taking orders from John, a soldier's mask. Calm, cool, and undoubtable collected. When inside everything was ripping itself apart. _People do not die from suicide; they die from sadness._

"A hundred, then?"

It was rhetorical, but in Sam's mind it was all he could do to keep himself from shouting, **Yes**!

Each leather lash jolted, jostled, and jammed the pins back into place. Each lead red streak of pain blurred Sam's mind to a point past capable conscious thought and to Sam that was bliss. _Run your fingers through my soul. For once, just once, just feel what I feel. Believe what I believe. Percieve what I perceive. Look, experience, examine, and for once, just once, understand._

Dean brought the crop down with an even weight and speed every time. Years of practice had taught him well. Each lead red streak that Dean imprinted on Sam was another reason on his long list of way he shouldn't be allowed into Heaven, why he should rot in Hell. _If you see more than lines, I am so very sorry._

But the look on Sammy's face, that look on his Sammy's face was almost worth it, worth all the pain and turmoil, all the nightmare induced fevers and sweats at night, all the times Dean had to watch his brother torn by his own hand...

**Almost**.

_It's sad how most things are beautiful when they're ending._

_Flowers when they're wilting, the leaves in autumn, the sun as it's setting._

_Your smile when it's fading...._


End file.
